I'm Not So Sorry
by I My Me Mine
Summary: She understands. More than anyone else, she understands how difficult it is to lose something.


**WARNING: **

**If you do not like changing point of views and vague monologue, this story is not for you.**

_Prompt: A person with some form of life-long handicap (e.g. blindness, inability to walk, etc.) who only shows up when it's raining. Another person notices this person, and..._

* * *

_She understands._

_More than anyone else, she understands how difficult it is to lose something._

_The girls' loss was larger than her own, but a loss is a loss; it still stings._

_It will always sting._

* * *

You remember friends and family alike shaking their heads when they tried to communicate with you while you stared at other beings. That was all you could do; see, you mean. There was no sound in your life, just a bunch of lip-reading and hand movements.

It was tiresome, to see people indulge in the sounds they made while looking silly or angry as they did it.

That was your life; for the hearing you lacked you were dealt double vision. You saw what they didn't, what they couldn't. It was both a curse and a blessing. A blessing for having something to replace the void. A curse for being unable to show it to others.

Which of the two is stronger, you did and do not know. Even now, as her head rests on your lap, you do not have a single answer.

**The world still spins round'.**

* * *

I would always win.

Even now, with the thousand and two lover, with the one who sees me for who I am not, who I could never be, I am still a winner.

I will never lose.

Never lose.

For the hand that can still hold, the hand that is mine and mine alone, grips the handle. It is ready to strike, to make sure that the string that holds her to this place becomes severed.

**There **

**is **

**no **

**such **

**thing**

** as **

**a**

** h _a _p _p _y **

**ending.**

* * *

Your memories fast-forward to the time you were a pre-teen. You were preparing for your first year of middle school. It was a time you'd never forget. It was the year you first met him.

He showed you how to laugh without thinking, how to make a paper rose, how to dance casino and how to stop and stare at bugs as they go through their routines. He was a breath of fresh air that made your muscles strain with the effort necessary to produce a smile. You almost forgot how wonderful it was to feel your lips stretch. It was all worth the teasing you got, because being friends with a handsome male who's single (not to mention you're a girl) all blends into a batch of 'you must be his girlfriend', 'he so likes you', etc.

His name is Bruno and he was the reason you felt as though you were just another girl. Because with him, he would speak slow enough that you could read his lips and was patient enough to not mind if your attention drifted to beings of another lifetime. To him, you were you and that was all that mattered.

**Happiness _was_ yours to hold.**

* * *

Droplets fall to the earth. The beat has no tempo, one girl notes.

It's the song of those who are sad, of those who have gone through tears staining their faces, of a peaceful nights sleep, of a plant that needs a drink, of a car that skids across the pavement; it's the story of millions of individuals playing at uneven intervals. It's a song that's heard but misunderstood.

After all, as long as you can hear it, the meaning doesn't matter. It's all about the beats. It's all about the short-lived moments that are quickly forgotten.

It's all about running to appointments, making sure to find cover from the storm that could seep through clothing. Not about taking a break and staring at nature. Why do that when there are goals that should be met and computer screens to flash watts of time-consuming entertainment?

She had to be crazy to run across the street with no umbrella to reach a girl who sits on the same bus stop when the sky decides to release all the atmospheric water vapor it has accumulated. She had to be insane to miss spending time inside an air-conditioned house eating potato chips to go outside, take in the cold breeze, and talk to a girl who needs a friend. She had to have lost a lot of brain cells to want to leave a routine in favor of a human being that's one in six (or was it seven?) billion people on this small planet.

The other girl smiles when she notes the first, a fond sigh escaping her lips as her grip on black polyester tightens.

* * *

He was the one that led you to this bus stop one day when you were half-way through middle school. He told you about the cranky bus driver who was missing her two front teeth and the fact that almost no one would come to this spot. He spoke fondly of all the people who passed by, about all the stories he had witness and all the people who made him realize just how easy he had it. Bruno was always the type to over-analyze the simplest pieces of life.

It was those quirks that led you to fall deeper into a love that is nothing like the love you see in the air, in the stories, or in your home. Your love is one that has no true definition, where you can and can not imagine kissing him or doing half of the things romantic pairs do. You just appreciate every piece of his existence and relish in all that is, was, and made Bruno who he is.

**Your longing for the past will never end.**

* * *

It's a routine; she takes her seat and greets the other girl, watching as she animatedly explains how her day has been and re-introduces herself.

"Hello. My name is Mayu, and yours?"

The sparkle in Mayu's eyes makes the ting of annoyance flush past her system. Were it not for those expressive eyes so rarely seen, she would have considered not coming to their meeting spot anymore. _Considered _being the key word. She could never commit such a harsh crime as to abandon someone, even if all the people in her world had left her behind.

"My name is Yuzuki Yukari, but you can call me Yukari."

Mayu's smile pales in comparison to her eyes, both of which are pure radiance. Eyes are all that's left of Yukari's world, the only piece of sense that has held such a high value in her mundane life, she cares more for them than for the piece of the body that could never properly function for her. It's sad, but smiles will never captivate her like eyes do.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm so glad we're friends."

Yukari has heard that line so many times that she could recite it herself if she wished to. Mayu's quirk was to always greet a friend as though it was their first meeting. She had always believed that if you maintain the illusion of a fresh friendship it will never wither.

There are times Yukari wonders if that quirk is what caused all of her friends to disappear.

* * *

High school had begun and it is both everything and nothing like the books have described it. Yes there are clicks. There are rude people as there are overly peppy students who try to promote school spirit, but compared to the books the environment seems more tranquil. Being here for almost a month you have not seen a single fight or sign of bullying. Perhaps it's your distractible nature, or it could be that your school is one of those rare ones that are as close to perfect as possible. You lean more towards the first option.

It ends as quickly as it had started and you are now stuck with a book bag stuffed with homework and an empty bus bench. There is no one there to fill the void.

No one.

The man you once knew who went by the name of Bruno is no longer at your side. He's at a better place, and you think that he deserves to be there because he worked hard to get to such a high level. You do wish you could have had more time, more memories, and a chance to _try _and voice your thankfulness. If there was a single person you would attempt to form words to, it would be him.

**You lost that opportunity.**

* * *

As the droplets continue their journey, Mayu continues the accustomed routine.

She deliberately takes her time to scoot closer, as if Yukari were to notice her movements she would lose some sort of game. Her advances had a habit of leaning towards the romantic side, but Yukari knew that it was a mixture. It was an odd sort of love the blond held for the girl who dyed her hair lavender. It was a sort of love that reminded Yukari of another time period.

"This is going to be the last day, isn't it?"

Her smile seems so happy. It looks as though she's eager for the answer only Yukari can give.

Yukari knows those eyes. She knows that beneath the smile, the cheer, and all the artificial glitter is a sadness spawned from regret. She knows because she has gone though those waves.

"It is."

There is **no regret** in those words.

* * *

It's a Sunday. It's your favorite day of the week, when all is tranquil and people enjoy the last taste of freedom before condemning themselves to the unknown that is tomorrow.

You decide to go against the drizzle and head to the bus stop. You have a lot on your mind and feel as though being there can calm the sense of loneliness that comes from being surrounded by bodies that you have no true connection to. You expect to see no one like always. You do not expect to see a girl dressed in all black and clutching a stuffed animal as though it was the last piece of warmth on this Earth, soaked to her socks and shivering against the cold breeze.

She looks as pitiful as a stray cat caught in the rain, which she might as well be with those sharp caramel eyes that focus on the asphalt.

The first thing that comes to mind is how beautiful she is, and you try to voice that thought as you take a seat beside her.

True, she is a stranger. You could be making a terrible impression that could give you the label as a 'creep'. You could be wasting your first words on a person who will not understand their value. There is all of those possibilities yet you care for none. You do not even care that she might be unable to comprehend the garbage that your untrained vocal cords spit out. However, you do wish she can understand the message.

You know more than anyone that being reminded of your positive points can really help during funks like the one she's suffering.

**Those smiling eyes dazzle.**

* * *

Yukari refuses to run away. She knows the fate she is condemning herself to. She knows that today she will die in Mayu's arms. She knows this yet she refuses to run away.

It's twisted, but she has always known Mayu would be the one to end her life and that she would end it with a smile and the rain as the only other witness; Yukari would dream about it since she was a child.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You could run away. You have legs."

It's spoken so naturally and carelessly that a stranger would not notice the bite that followed those words. Her left hand is in a fist, the other limp.

Mayu always hated those that never realized the value of each body part.

Yukari finds it difficult to do. It's the hardest action she had ever done. She pulls the other close to her, winding her arms around the frail girls' neck. Mayu is as cold as always and it makes Yukari feel like pulling away to retain the bits of warmth that haven't dissolved. Yukari refuses her body's wish in favor of the comfort skin to skin contact can bring.

"I'm not going to run away from something I started. I care about you, Mayu, and I knew long before I saw you that it would end like this."

Mayu's shaking. It's gentle at first but grows feverish with each second that ticks by. All Yukari can do is hold a girl that's haunted by millions of stories that link her to the dead.

**Humans are always linked to light and dark.**

* * *

You give her your favorite jacket. It's dark purple, almost black, with pink streaks and floppy bunny ears you attached with your own two hands. It might be your favorite and the only article of clothing you're wearing that can keep you warm but you know this girl needs it more than you ever will.

She looks at the jacket as though she doesn't know whether to accept or admire. It takes a few nudges to get her to take it in her hand. She's so slow you decide to stand up and put it on her, an action she seems grateful for.

During the silence you better examine her face, lashes, and all the pieces of humanity you love.

Her face is so familiar you almost forgot it.

"Hello. My name is Mayu, and yours?"

She speaks those words as though she's had to say them at least five times a day, which strikes you odd.

"My name is Yuzuki Yukari, but you can call me Yukari."

And there it is. Pure ecstasy in a pair of sand dollars.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm so glad we're friends."

Her right arm is covered by your sweater. You imagine the limbs are skin and bone. You imagine many things yet a single feature steals all your attention away; a wooden hand.

* * *

I don't want to do this anymore.

I love you.

I love you.

**I**

**LOVE**

**you.**

I don't want to lose you.

**I'm not so sorry.**

* * *

A/n:

Because combining themes from other stories, all p.o.v's, wordplay, and reverse chronological order is super fun. Here's how it went:

Third person: General

Second person: Yukari

First person: Mayu

The prompt came from Ryuchu, who gave it to me when we did a sort of prompt swap/ drabble war or whatever it's called. This prompt is so old I wonder if she even remembers it lol. Oh, and in case you didn't notice they both have life-long disabilities and Mayu's is that she's missing a hand thanks to an event that just didn't get elaborated on. Sorry about that.

Thank you for bearing my experimental writing techniques. I hope you were able to enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. It has also been a while since I've written so much, which others would consider a small amount. Good night :)


End file.
